


Time Trapped

by naboru



Series: Blast Off/Vortex Advent Calendar [23]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dark fluff, Gen, Science Fiction, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 19:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vortex is in space with Blast Off, and encounters something unpleasant.</p>
<p>Blast Off, Vortex / PG-13 / gen, dark fluff, suspense, science-fiction</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> **Continuity:** G1 (part of ultharkitty’s [Dysfunction AU](http://community.livejournal.com/lost_carcosa/19574.html#cutid1))  
>  **Warnings:** gen, dark fluff, suspense, science-fiction  
>  **Disclaimer:** Sadly, I own nothing.  
>  **Beta:** ultharkitty

Vortex sighed, and slid down the rear cockpit wall.

He knew this was punishment, accompanying Blast Off on a surveillance trip with nothing else to do. He just wondered what the shuttle had done to frag off Onslaught, because Blast Off’s mood sure suggested that he hadn’t taken Vortex with him voluntarily. It was a bad idea to ask if he didn’t want to end up being banned to the cargo hold.

“We need a full scan of human activity and weaponry at the coordinates,” Vortex heard Onslaught’s voice from the console, but he didn’t bother to listen more carefully.

Standing up with another sigh – hoping their commander would perceive it – Vortex walked to one of the smaller side windows.

The planet looked alien.

All blue and white and green and brown.

It wasn’t the reassuring metallic colours he knew from Cybertron. There weren’t the towers that you could see from space, or the valley that almost reached to the planet’s core. Earth was just a full round ball. Lights marked the human cities, and even they looked dull and primitive from so far away – and suddenly they were all gone.

“Soundwave needs a precise descript-“ Onslaught’s voice broke off; Blast Off’s frame shuddered.

A metallic screech echoed from the thrusters to the cargo hold, and the force of deceleration almost knocked Vortex off his feet.

And then there was this _sensation_. Unreal and everywhere, having penetrated every part of him without him even noticing. It was sickening and indescribable, while Earth’s moon was in pieces floating over the dark planet where the most prominent features were red glowing streaks on dark soil.

“What… what the frag happened?”

The space outside of the windows shimmered.

Blast Off didn’t answer.

“Hey, Thrusters!” Vortex kicked the side wall. “Wake up, or break out of whatever agony you’re in and answer me. What the frag is _this?_ ” He meant the weird sensation he couldn’t place, had never felt before. It was unsettling.

The speakers clicked and after a burst of static Blast Off’s voice came steady, but with forced calmness; Vortex could read the alt-mode tones by now - most of them anyway.

“Iy'uirl aurlyur.”

Outside, the Moon was gone, Earth was completely dark.

Vortex broke away from the changing view outside, and stared into one of the cameras. “Was that an answer to my question or a speaker malfunction?”

“The former.” A pause in which the cameras where offline. They activated again, and Blast Off continued. “It’s a word from the Oykhtare that we adopted. There’s no literal translation, but… it means something like time bubble, or time vacuum.”

Vortex still stared. “That’s supposed to mean something to me?” He shook out his rotors in an attempt to get rid of the odd feeling. It was useless. His tank rebelled, and he felt sick for a moment.

“I’m sorry. It’s hard to explain. In short: We’re trapped.”

“Trapped? Where?” 

“Not where, _when_. We’re trapped in time.”

Vortex’ battle mask moved, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.

Blast Off continued, and it was obvious that he didn’t feel much better than Vortex. “It’s difficult to explain. It’s like an hourglass, and we’re in the middle where the sand runs down, only we’re not moving. But it’s also like the centre of a clock where the hands move back and forth while the inside doesn’t change.”

“So, that means…” Vortex needed a moment to figure out what he wanted to say. He doubted he got this right, “we’re like in another dimension?”

“Oh, no, no,” Blast Off sounded weird, like he glad that wasn’t the case. “Just time. Dimension shifts feel different.”

At that Vortex’ visor flickered. “They _feel different?_ The frag? How do you know that?”

Another pause with another rumble of engines, a sign of Blast Off’s discomfort in alt-mode. “I,” Blast Off began, “It doesn’t matter now.”

“O _kay_.” Vortex frowned, and crossed his arms. “So, what can we do to free ourselves?”

“Nothing, just wait.”

“How long?”

“That depends. It can be klicks, joors, cycles but even quartex. Or vorns.””

Vortex froze. “ _Vorns?_ Are you kidding me? We’re trapped here while vorns pass outside? There has to be a way out.”

“Time outside flows differently. It depends when we’ll be released.”

The view of the planet outside changed again, and Vortex shook his head, trying to process information that didn’t make much sense to him. He wasn’t a scientist. He was a soldier, a warrior, he didn’t like things he couldn’t fight.

Avoiding looking outside, Vortex sat down on the co-pilot’s seat.

“So, this time bubble could spit us out in the past, too?”

“Unlikely. The past is more solid than the future. At least it never happened to me. I can’t really explain it. I’m not an expert on these things.”

It had to be something if Blast Off of all mechs admitted he didn’t knew about certain stuff. It wasn’t reassuring at all, but Vortex tried to accept the situation without understanding it. It was hard, but he couldn’t do anything else.

They waited in silence.

\---

It was as though they had a whole eternity to waste with nothing to do.

The second cycle began on Vortex’ internal chronometer. They couldn’t know what time it was outside.

The situation grated on the ‘copter, but it was nothing compared to Blast Off.

The shuttle tried to stay calm, but his energy field fluctuated now and then, agitation written in the signature.

Vortex wasn’t only bored, he’d also failed to lighten the mood a few times. He’d made jokes, but Blast Off hadn’t laughed. He hadn’t even been annoyed, which was even worse. The shuttle had just apologised for not being in the right mood.

It was wrong.

Tension was in the air, a boding panic, and the odd sensation still wouldn’t leave Vortex alone.

\---

The fourth cycle ended with Vortex leaning against the cargo hold wall, looking outside. Earth was gone, only a cloud of dust and floating rocks remained.

The ‘copter vented the dense air, and rubbed his forehead with two fingers. He stopped mid-movement, and grinned tiredly. It was a gesture Blast Off did every so often.

The shuttle had gone into recharge after Vortex had urged him to get some rest. He’d been awake since they’d been trapped, and exhaustion had entered the energy signature. For Vortex, it hadn’t been only irritating but also made him worry.

Right then, when he slid down the wall, the signature was calm.

Vortex should probably get some recharge himself. Or he could put the time Blast Off was unconscious to good use…

Glancing up at the offline cameras, Vortex’ grin returned and his hand traced over his plating towards his interface panel.

\---

During the second orn, Vortex started to go crazy. He was low on fuel and had to ration the little that Blast Off had in his side containers.

The metal around him shook in displeasure every so often, and the feeling of isolation like in the Detention Centre increased.

He knew he wasn’t imprisoned. He still could feel and see and hear, but knowing that outside was nothing but space limited by time wasn’t exactly reassuring.

Vortex lay on the cockpit floor and stared at the ceiling where one camera was fixed to the outside, one was offline and the last one roved slowly, aimlessly.

“There’s really no way out?” Vortex asked, and mentioned their trapped state for the first time in a few cycles.

“I told you there isn’t. I’ve told you four times already.”

Vortex heaved air loudly. “How can you stand that?”

Blast Off’s speakers crackled. The reply came reluctantly. “I can’t.” 

Vortex glanced at the roving camera. It wasn’t like Blast Off to admit these kind of things, and he didn’t want to think about what it meant about their situation.

“In Altihex they had this lab.” The shuttle spoke again, thoughtful and as though he wasn't sure if he should speak at all. “B23. It was deep down. I didn’t like it.”

Behind his visor, Vortex frowned. He kept quiet, and waited for Blast Off to continue.

“Everyone had to go there now and then,” the speakers announced after a moment. “When you experienced things like this, you were questioned about it. At first I always guessed it’d be some kind of archive for the obscure and dangerous and indescribable.” 

Blast Off fell silent, which was mean. Vortex was curious now.

“But? It sounds like there’s a but.”

Static emerged from the speakers before the shuttle’s voice came once again, hesitatingly. “There is. They also did some research. Research on things like the Iy'uirl aurlyur. Things which I think shouldn’t be tried to explain, let alone to create. Or to make _contact_ with.” The floor beneath Vortex’ rotors shook noticeably in more than discomfort. “I… didn’t like it there.”

For a few klicks, Vortex didn’t respond. Not only because he didn’t know what to say, but also because he tried to make sense of it. He wasn’t even sure he _wanted_ to make sense of it. In the end, he sighed. “You’re a very special mech, you know that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The shuttle muttered in return with a hint of annoyance.

It made Vortex smirk. That reaction was more like Blast Off.

“Don’t be grumpy,” Vortex made his amusement audible, “because you _are_ special.” He patted the floor tentatively. Then he added, more serious again, but also nosily. “Why are you telling me all this?”

Another few moment of silence followed.

“I don’t know.”

\---

Blast Off had gone into standby mode to save energy. He only woke up every few cycles to check on Vortex and the situation.

The ‘copter felt alone, and lonely. Energy deprivation grated on him, and the silence had become almost unbearable. The ever present hum of idle shuttle engines was too familiar by now to call it noise.

Vortex’ head dropped back against the back of the co-pilot’s seat. His engine whined.

“Blast Off?” He knew there wouldn’t be an answer, and forced himself not to check his chronometer again. He knew they were trapped the second quartex, but knowing the exact time wouldn’t change anything.

\---

Vortex had been in recharge a lot. When he’d been awake more of the time of a common cycle, he was now awake for only a few joors.

Every time he woke up, the image outside was different.

Once the lights of human cities were back on Earth’s surface, another time the Sun had expanded and was so close, it looked as though it’d swallow Blast Off any moment. The heat and odd piercing sensations on Vortex’s armour were probably only his imagination.

\---

Vortex huddled in the co-pilot’s seat.

He didn’t have the strength to pace any more, let alone do other things. His rotor blades had gotten tingly, then numb as they weren’t provided with energon any longer. They were the first indication Vortex was low on fuel. His fingers followed his rotor blades, and later his arms. They were numb, but at least he could still move them – not that he wanted to.

Vortex fought desperately not to go into stasis. He told himself he needed to be conscious when they were free again so that he could wake the shuttle.

\---

The image outside started to change more frequently.

Vortex’ optics flickered, and he wasn’t sure if the outside world altered so suddenly, or if the pauses between his visual input might just be longer than he thought.

Blast Off stirred online for the first time for a decacycle – a space term which Vortex had never used before, but he guessed using it now was appropriate.

“Something’s changing,” the shuttle said. He sounded drunk, and Vortex flinched at the sound of the staticky voice. It was the first time in a very long time he’d heard something other than idle systems.

“What do you mean?” Tiredly, the ‘copter looked up at the cameras. Only one was activated, probably to save energy.

“The edge of the Iy'uirl aurlyur, it’s becoming unstable.” Blast Off’s tone made it clear that this had to be even more of an uncomfortable sensation than being trapped.

“And that’s a good sign?”

“That depends on where the Iy'uirl aurlyur will break and let us out…”

Vortex sighed. It was hard to stay awake after having been awake two joors already. “Let’s hope it’s not too far in the future… or past.” But then, why not in the past? He’d pondered on this before. They could change what happened to them, or free themselves from the Detention Center and have revenge on an unconscious Megatron on a prehistoric Earth…

But who knew what havoc that would cause when even Blast Off wasn’t familiar with these time things and stuff.

He sighed once more before a sudden jolt made his intakes hitch.

The shimmering space outside turned into a welcome boring darkness with the pale Moon hanging in the middle.

Blast Off’s thrusters started, and in the other window, Earth’s ground flew by, showing the primitive cities shining.

The odd sensation was finally gone, and Vortex had almost forgotten how it felt to be without it. He didn’t need to hear it from the shuttle, Vortex knew: After what had been like vorns, they were finally free again.

“When are we?” Vortex mumbled, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

It wasn’t Blast Off who answered. The still open comm-link crackled, and Onslaught spoke in an enraged tone. “Blast Off, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Onslaught!” Vortex couldn’t help but feel a mixture of joy and desperation. He’d been angry for having been sent to space before, but he couldn’t care less about his grudge. He just wanted to go home. “I’m sorry, okay? I really am. I swear to Vector Sigma, I won’t use the repair drones to set up explosives again. And I won’t do it in the base any more. And I won’t involve Brawl.” 

There was a pause with soft static from the speakers.

“Blast Off?” Onslaught asked, his confusion obvious as well as his suspicion, “what did you do to Vortex while you were unreachable?”

“I didn’t do anything to him,” the shuttle replied, and added blankly, “You were about to say something before we were cut for… how long exactly?”

Vortex raised an optical ridge at the relatively subtle way of asking for Blast Off’s standards.

Again, there was bewilderment in the commander's tone, but they got the answer they needed.

“Eight kliks. When you come back I demand a full report of this incident, understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Vortex knew why Blast Off used the polite, military title. The ‘copter wanted to be sure, however, and added. “Can we come home when we’re done?”

The onboard camera stared at Vortex, and Vortex stared back. Onslaught didn’t answer immediately.

“I’ll send the detailed order in a small data package since you’ll be out of communication range soon. When you’re done scanning, use the next opportunity for re-entry. I'll see you then. Onslaught out.”

The communication link clicked once as it closed, and Vortex vented stale air deeply in relief. He tensed again the moment he remembered the expected report.

“What are we gonna tell Ons?”

The camera zoomed in on him. “Let me handle this. I’ll make something up.”

At that, Vortex tipped his head to a side, the grin audible as he asked' “You'll do what?”

“He doesn’t need to know the truth, unless you want to explain it to him.”

“Oh frag no!”

“So I make something up.”

“Hehe,” Vortex laughed. “I’d never guessed you’d do something illicit like that.”

“I told you I didn’t like that lab in Altihex…”


End file.
